


Slumber Party

by purplelarkspur



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-09 13:45:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplelarkspur/pseuds/purplelarkspur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin laughed, looking over at Michael. “So you’ve just decided my Friday evening for me, then?”</p>
<p>“Yup.” Michael grinned, swiveling in his chair to face the other boy, effectively shirking his work. “Like, let’s be honest, you couldn't have any plans better than hanging out with me.”</p>
<p>“S’pose that’s true,” Gavin conceded, snickering. “Are we gonna have pillow fights and bonk for a bit?” </p>
<p>“Oh yeah, you know it. Now get your shit when you go home and meet me at my apartment for a bonk or two.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slumber Party

“Hey Gavin, guess what?”

“What is it, Michael?”

“Tonight is going to be a legendary team Nice Dynamite slumber party, that’s what!!”

Gavin laughed, looking over at Michael. “So you’ve just decided my Friday evening for me, then?”

“Yup.” Michael grinned, swiveling in his chair to face the other boy, effectively shirking his work. “Like, let’s be honest, you couldn’t have any plans better than hanging out with me.”

“S’pose that’s true,” Gavin conceded, snickering. “Are we gonna have pillow fights and bonk for a bit?” 

“Oh yeah, you know it. Now get your shit when you go home and meet me at my apartment for a bonk or two.”

 

* * *

 

“I got some games, I brought over a PS3, and I got snacks and food.”

Gavin held up the two six packs in his hands, beaming with a sense of accomplishment. “I brought the beer.”

Michael snickered, letting Gavin into his apartment, shutting the door behind him. “All right, well, you win. Except that I have tequila in the fridge!!” Michael walked over to his fridge and pulled it open with a flourish, gesturing to the bottles inside. “Served.”

“Oh, we are going to get  _piss_  drunk, aren’t we?” Gavin asked, laughing. Accustomed to the apartment, Gavin made himself at home, leaving out two beers for himself and Michael, putting the rest in the fridge. He plopped onto the couch, opening his own beer and taking a swig.

“Yes, and I am going to play Journey because I’ve never played it and sometimes I don’t want to get angry at games that suck.” Michael fiddled around with the cords to the PS3, wiring it to the television. “This shit won game of the year, like, everywhere, so I’m assuming it’s good.”

“What’s this game even about?”

Michael slid himself next to Gavin on the couch, opening his beer. “I don’t know. A journey I guess. It’s supposed to be all artsy and shit. And not too long so we can just beat it tonight.”

“Jeez, fifteen bucks for just a night?” Gavin frowned.

“Psh, more than I’d pay for you.”

“Michael! I’m hurt.” 

The game booted up, sweeping orchestral music playing, glittering golden sand illuminating the screen. Michael’s eyebrows raised, and he nodded, a surprised, pleased look on his face. “This is pretty so far.”

“Music’s too artsy. I’ll fall asleep,” Gavin said.

“Gavin, shut up. This music is delicate and beautiful.” The screen zoomed in on the player character, a figure robed in red with golden embroidery, with shadowed skin and bright eyes, somewhat owlish looking. “Aw, he’s cute.”

“Where’s his bloody face though?”

“I’unno.” Michael navigated the character up a sandy hill, a vantage point for a huge mountain in the distance, a bright light shining at its peak. The title of the game flashed across the screen, and Michael was off, making his way through the desert. “I guess we’re going to the mountains.” 

“Why though? I don’t understand this game; they just thrust you in the desert and were like ‘okay, go forward.’”

“Gavin, shut up; it has literally been two minutes. Give the game a goddamn chance to explain itself.”

Gavin rolled his eyes, chugging the rest of the beer and laying his head down on Michael’s lap. “I’m just going to rest for a bit,” he said, bringing his legs up on the couch, hugging his knees.

“Psh, whatever.” Michael glanced downward, Gavin facing the television with his eyes closed, his hair a bit messy and the necklace Michael bought him securely around his neck. Michael couldn’t help but feel a twinge of affection before grunting in annoyance and getting back to the game. 

Gavin must have been more tuckered out than he’d realized. But it had been a long week, and the small bit of alcohol he’d had just encouraged his drowsiness. Plus Michael had a nice, cozy lap, suitable for dozing. He drifted in and out of consciousness, every once in a while picking up some of Michael’s commentary, before being lulled back to sleep by the game’s aurally calming soundtrack. Gavin faintly remembered Michael stirring at one point, probably to get more to drink. 

Gavin fully came to about an hour or so later, apparently at the game’s climax. Michael was obviously invested, his arms and legs rigid, his eyes bloodshot and wide and glued to the screen. Gavin snuck a peek at the screen, noticing another character with Michael, a character with white robes and more golden embroidery than Michael. “Michael, how come that person has a better robe than you?”

Michael glanced down at Gavin, surprised to see him up. “Better than me,” Michael mumbled, eyes sliding back to the television. “S’been showing me all the game parts. He’s my best friend. I fuckin’…I fuckin’ love this guy. He’s fuckin’ awesome.”

“Michael, you are soooo drunk. How are you this drunk already?”

“Heheh, naaaaaaw.” Michael brushed his hand against Gavin’s face, giggling. “Noooo.”

“You definitely broke into the tequila,” Gavin said, sighing as he sat up. Michael grunted a little when Gavin moved, muttering about Gavin distracting him all the time. To confirm his suspicions, Gavin looked over at the table next to Michael, and—yup—an empty shot glass and a bottle of tequila that was definitely subject to more than a few shots. A few empty beers were littered about as well.

“I didn’t…mean to, I just had some down time between—between levels,” Michael explained, his character falling over on the screen in the snow. “What—WHAT?! I get all the way to the mountain to die?!”

Gavin looked over at the television, and just as Michael said, his character and the white robe were both lying in the snow, motionless. But after a quick cinematic, they were back up, flying towards the mountain in a quick shot. The area at the end of the game was beautiful, even Gavin had to admit, but the ending itself polarized the two boys.

“What kind of ending is that? That’s a dumb ending,” Gavin scoffed.

“That ending was beautiful and my friend was amazin’,” Michael slurred, emotions haywire and flitting through his face rapid fire. “I’m gonna. I’m gonna send him a message some time.” Michael rubbed his red face, trying to straighten up a bit. “Okay, well, next order of business, Gavino Free.” 

Gavin quirked an eyebrow, watching Michael pour him a shot of tequila. “Time for you t’ get as drunk as meee!”

“Oh, bloody hell, Michael, you’re gonna be nursing the worst hangover in the morning.”

 

* * *

 

"Let's take a shot every time Catbug is fucking adorable."

"I'll take a shot every time the little bugger's on screen, but I think you need a break, Michael."

"Heheh. Noooooo." Michael ruffled Gavin's hair affectionately, snickering under his breath. "Nooooo."

"Yeah, you knob, you gotta calm your tits."

"Okay, how 'bout—how 'bout I just drink beer now."

"I can compromise."

 

* * *

 

 

As Gavin's inebriation continued, his ban on tequila loosened and finally disappeared completely. Gavin was eventually drunk enough to continue goading Michael into making bad decisions. While they were loudly watching and commenting on Bravest Warriors, Gavin took a moment to slip his shirt off, making Michael quirk an eyebrow. "Whatchu doing, a strip tease?"

"Michael, take a body shot off of me."

"Gavin, that's the gayest thing you've ever said to me."

Gavin turned sideways on the couch, salt on his navel, winking with a lime in his mouth. Michael laughed at the sight in front of him to hide his blush. "The fucking...you topless with just that necklace...this is the gayest thing."

Gavin held the lime in his hand for a moment, to say, "Don't be a pleb, Michael!"

"All right, all right." Michael was so glad he was drunk. There was no other way he'd be able to do this without getting flustered.

But Gavin looked  _really fucking hot_  topless and even had the courtesy to put salt in a place where there wasn't much hair. What a gentleman.

Michael turned to face him and leaned down to lick the salt off, making sure to go slow to relish the moment. He heard Gavin giggling and say, "That tickles, Michael." 

Michael poured himself a shot in record time and chugged it down. He leaned over to Gavin and grabbed the lime out of Gavin's mouth with his mouth, their lips brushing together briefly.

"You're dumb," Michael slurred with a dopey grin. He was actually trying to compliment Gavin, but words were difficult. Gavin understood by the tone though, and laughed.

 

* * *

 

They both ended up wasted by the end of the night. Michael and Gavin were good at goading each other into make horrible decisions. If anyone asked later if Michael had taken body shots off of Gavin, Michael would definitely, loudly deny it. No one ever actually asked what those two did alone together; everyone just already assumed the worst.

Eventually they made their way into Michael’s bed, their words slurring and their movements loopy and awkward. Gavin took too many covers right as he got into bed, so Michael complained until he got his share. They finally settled down, facing away from each other, their backs touching.

“Michael?”

“Mm?”

“Can I—Can you tell me a bedtime story.”

“Mgh. No.” Michael turned around, wrapping his arms around Gavin’s waist. “Go to bed. ‘M tired.”

Gavin turned towards Michael, too inebriated to worry about any pretense, glancing up at Michael’s sleepy face. The redhead’s eyes were closed, his mouth slightly ajar, blowing out light breaths that smelled like tequila.  

Overcome with temptation, Gavin poked at Michael’s nose. Michael’s eyebrows furrowed in annoyance before he responded by roughly grabbing Gavin’s nose, making the boy squeak. “Michael, no!”

“I’ll fuckin’…murder you if you don’t shut up…” Michael said, hugging his pillow. Gavin pouted, snuggling the pillow.

"G'night my little boy Michael."

"You're so... _so_  fucking gay." Michael leaned over and kissed Gavin's forehead, making Gavin grin.

They eventually drifted off into sleep, fully aware they were going to be hung over and very embarrassed in the morning.

 


End file.
